Why I'm for the Brady Bill

"Anniversary" is a word we usually associate
with happy events that we like to remember: birthdays,
weddings, the first job. March 30, however, marks an
anniversary I would just as soon forget, but cannot.

It was on that day 10 years ago that a deranged young man
standing among reporters and photographers shot a policeman, a
Secret Service agent, my press secretary and me on a
Washington sidewalk.

I was lucky. The bullet that hit me bounced off a rib and
lodged in my lung, an inch from my heart. It was a very close
call. Twice they could not find my pulse. But the bullet's
missing my heart, the skill of the doctors and nurses at
George Washington University Hospital and the steadfast
support of my wife, Nancy, saved my life.

Jim Brady, my press secretary, who was standing next to me,
wasn't as lucky. A bullet entered the left side of his
forehead, near his eye, and passed through the right side of
his brain before it exited. The skills of the George
Washington University medical team, plus his amazing
determination and the grit and spirit of his wife, Sarah,
pulled Jim through. His recovery has been remarkable, but he
still lives with physical pain every day and must spend much
of his time in a wheelchair.